Long Shadows at Dawn
by aethelswin
Summary: (WIP) Intrigue and war and a bit of love on Chiron. Rated T for mindworm violence and occasional naughty words. If anyone is still reading this group, I'd love to see some crits. :)
1. Chapter 1

**Long Shadows at Dawn**

This is my first attempt at a fanfiction. Please crit brutally. You may do what you want with it as long as you respect the rights of the creators, copyright holders, and so forth of Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri.

Chapter 1.

Lucia Graves entered the office and was relieved to see that CEO Nwabudike Morgan was in a jovial mood. "Hello Lucia," he said. "Please have a seat, rest your feet, and tell me how the war against the worms is going."

Lucia sat down and said, "The war is going amazingly well, sir, especially when you consider how bad things were just a few months ago. Your idea of paying a bounty for dead worms has worked wonders. People who have the courage to stand up to the worms' psionic assault are cashing in, and there are no worm clusters left within striking distance of the base."

CEO Morgan nodded in satisfaction. "It is good for the populace to understand that courage is profitable," he said. "We shall have need of that commodity."

Lucia continued: "There has been one unforeseen development, however. A new company, _Dead Worms, Inc._, has found a way to process the worm husks into what they call planetpearls, which evidently have many useful properties. For a while we resold the worm husks to Dead Worms in order to make back the cost of the worm bounty. But lately Dead Worms has been contracting worm-hunters directly and bypassing our bounty program altogether. It wasn't planned, but since the worms are being killed anyway, I don't think we should crack down on them."

Lucia looked at CEO Morgan to see how he was reacting to her temerity in giving him advice and was relieved to see a broad smile on his face. Realization struck her. "You knew about Dead Worms all along!" she blurted out.

"I'm a shareholder," he said. "But even if I weren't, I'd be happy. Worm-eradication is now powered by the profit motive, and the bounty program will soon be obsolete. You have done well, Lucia. You are young and intelligent, and you understand something of the power of money. You are brave, too: it has not escaped my notice that you are one of the few who kept their heads in the first worm attacks. You are also ambitious for wealth and influence. I am relieving you of your post."

"Sir?" Lucia said. It took a fierce effort to keep the tears from her eyes. She had thought she was doing so well, and this blindsided her.

"Your new position will be as my personal assistant," said the CEO. "You will have a generous official salary and an even more generous unofficial one. Because you are young and attractive and will have little in the way of official duties, people will assume you are my mistress. Actually, you will be my probemaster."

CEO Morgan stood and looked out the window into the distance. "They are out there, somewhere," he said. "The other factions. Sooner or later we will make contact, and I will need the best possible intelligence on them."

* * *

A few days later, CEO Morgan addressed an assembly of the notables (i.e., the rich) of his society. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we have overcome the first great threat to our existence on this world. Those horrid mind worms are now our prey, rather than we theirs. It is time to abandon our emergency government for a more permanent and profitable one. Derek Ho, Marie Gbalajobi, and Tim Sladek have performed the difficult task of writing a new civil code — one with a particularly lucid treatment of property rights and contracts. Let's give them a hand!" And from the podium CEO Morgan led the applause for these three heros of the law.

When the applause died down, Morgan continued. "I was inspired by their efforts to make my own contribution. I have made a draft constitution for your consideration. I have tried to make it simple enough for the present modest scale of our colony, yet flexible enough to adapt to a number of possible developments as our society grows, and it has been tested in a broad suite of computer simulations. Its principal novelty is that it reflects our social values by weighting votes according to a formula involving wealth — as measured by the taxes an individual has paid during the previous electoral cycle. The formula has scaled well in simulation, but undoubtably you will want to try out your own formulas and simulations.

"I am giving this assembly a fortnight to consider modifications to this constitution. If, at the end of that time, you have reached no consensus, I shall select whatever proposal seems best to me. I wish I could offer you more time, but the pace of events is pressing. Soon, perhaps within a month, we expect contact with at least one other faction. When that happens, we should have in place a system of government that is stable, rational, and profitable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you are now the constitutional convention of the Plutocracy of Deineira. You are laying the cornerstones of our future. Until a fortnight hence, I leave you to your deliberations."

The assembly, now the constitutional convention, was so stunned that they didn't start to applaud until CEO Morgan had left the rostrum.

* * *

Back in his quarters a week later, CEO Morgan settled into a plush armchair. A floozy removed his shoes, and he set his feet upon a padded footrest. The floozy began to massage his feet. He gestured for the floozy to depart and addressed Lucia Graves. "Ah, Lucia," he said. "How many times have I wished we had settled a planet with lighter gravity."

Lucia Graves eyed the departing floozy. She wondered whether it would be wise to consolidate her position by becoming Morgan's mistress in deed as well as in rumor. Probably that wouldn't accomplish anything. Morgan would see through such simple attempts to manipulate him, though he would likely accept the offer.

Morgan smiled his plutocratically avuncular smile and said, "Report, probemaster."

Lucia said, "We have identified six localities on Chiron which are sources of low-intensity spread-spectrum radio signals. We cannot hope to read these signals from afar, not only because of encryption but because of the limitations imposed by Shannon's noisy coding theorem. But these are undoubtably the locations of the other factions. Their RF signatures are similar to our own, and they must also be aware of our presence."

Lucia pressed a button on her datek, and a slowly rotating holographic globe of Chiron appeared in the air between her and the CEO. The locations of the RF sources were clearly marked. Morgan got to his feet and examined the globe with interest. "We are fortunate to be on an island by ourselves," he remarked. "We must ensure that this good fortune continues. Do we have any idea which RF source corresponds to which faction?"

"Unfortunately not. Our records of the Unity breakup are incomplete and ambiguous. We can't tell which faction landed where."

"Very well, then, probemaster. Summarize what we can guess about the other factions: their strengths, weaknesses, and potential as trading partners."

"Yes sir. First off is Sheng-ji Yang's faction. If he is still alive, he is certain to be in control. He's not the type to lose control."

"From my own encounters with him, I'd say he is a lunatic. He seems torn between wanting to emulate Chairman Mao and wanting to emulate Fu Manchu," said the CEO.

"He may not be entirely sane, but he is highly intelligent," said Lucia. "The key to his character is his need for control, which practically amounts to paranoia. He hates democracy and will probably set up a police state as soon as possible. However, he is too cautious to launch wars unless he's fairly sure he can win, and he is likely to be reasonably honest in negotiations. Like Mao, he believes in the power of population, and we may expect him to try to gain a long-term edge by simply outbreeding everybody else.

"This need for control is sure to disrupt his economy, and we may expect his research to be laggard as well. On the other hand, he will be ideologically inclined to build up heavy industry, even where it makes no economic sense. This may give us an opening for some lucrative trade.

"In warfare, I expect his caution will lead him to shun brilliant tactics in favor of simple attrition. He will use raw numbers and industry to overwhelm his enemy. Therefore, if we fight him we must seek complications and avoid set-piece battles. We must keep surprising him — Sheng-ji Yang doesn't like surprises."

Morgan nodded and said, "An excellent summary, Lucia. I hope that Mr. Yang is associated with one of the RF sources on the far side of Chiron, but if he does turn out to be our neighbor, we should be able to deal with him. Who's next?"

"Next is the faction that was headed by Prokhor Zakharov. If he is still alive and in charge, he has likely organized his whole society along academic lines. His research will probably be in advance of ours for many years. We could save ourselves a lot of work by either trading for his technology or simply stealing it.

"A society run along academic lines is inherently elitist. We may expect disaffection among the vast majority of the population who do not have PhDs. The academic ruling class will be rife with professional jealousies and arcane academic feuds. If we find ourselves at war with this faction, we should be able to compensate for our expected technological lag with vigorous probe action aimed at stealing their tech and exploiting their social weaknesses.

"Prokhor Zakharov is likely to be reasonably honest in negotiations, at least with factions who show an appreciation of the value of research. Zakharov's academic vanity may be an exploitable weakness. He has high standards of academic integrity but a very low level of human empathy, especially for the uneducated. He might commit atrocities against his drones in the name of research, for example, forced medical trials, and if so we should be able to capitalize on the resulting resentment."

"Thank you, Lucia. Professor Zakharov will probably be a valuable acquaintance. At any rate, we will have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't build up an insurmountable lead in technology. Who is next?"

"Pravin Lal," said Lucy.

"A sanctimonious creep," opined CEO Morgan.

"Yes — that sums up my summary," said Lucia. "As putative leader of the UN, Pravin Lal will consider himself to be the only legitimate leader on Chiron. Agreements with him will be written on water. He will observe them only until he feels strong enough to break them. As with his hero, Jawaharlal Nehru, we can expect a lot of claptrap about the virtues of pacificism. And like his hero Nehru, who invaded Goa just because he could, he will feel no inhibition against launching wars in the name of unity whenever he thinks he can get away with it.

"From our records of the situation on the Unity, a fair number of intellectuals joined his faction, so his research shouldn't be too bad. However, Zakharov's faction and our own should still have a tangible technological lead.

"Some of his statements on the Unity and on Earth suggest he will aggressively promote a large-family policy. This gives him credibility as a long-term threat. Given the composition of his faction, we also expect him to be unusually adept at diplomacy. We might be the only faction to see through him from the start, and even so we will have to be alert to attempts to manipulate other factions against us.

"Militarily, we see no reason he should be especially strong or weak until his population growth kicks in. Overall, his faction seems to have no a priori weaknesses and limited a priori strengths. He should be a useful trading partner, but we must watch him carefully and never trust him for a moment."

"Thank you, Lucia. I agree with your assessment completely," said Morgan.

"Next is the faction led by Deirdre Skye," said Lucia.

"She's a ditz," said Morgan.

"Indeed, she does appear to be the least intelligent of the faction leaders," said Lucia. "However, she managed to convince most of the biologists on the Unity to join her. They will be the ruling class of her faction. Biology is perhaps the most critical branch of knowledge in the early stages of adapting ourselves to this planet, and there she will have a specialized technological edge.

"She professes pacifism but also a rabid hatred of capitalism. She is likely to be pacifist with everyone except us. Her status as a military threat depends on technological developments and on whether she is able to form a hostile coalition. On the face of it, she doesn't seem too formidable, but if her biologists cook up some nasty plagues, she might be dangerous indeed.

"Her ideology is confused and inconsistent, but fervently held. She has expressed both the desire to make a new Earth with the Unity's biosamples (which she stole before the Unity broke up) and also the need to defend the native ecology against human disruption. The lopsided nature of the faction, with its strength in biology and weakness in everything else, offers rich opportunities for trade.

"She should generally be reasonably honest in negotiations, but her hatred of capitalism could lead her to rationalize breaking agreements with us. If she goes to war with us, we should try to get a truce by striking at her territory and simultaneously lecturing her on the horrors of war."

"Thank you, Lucia," said Morgan. "A most thought-provoking assessment."

"Next is Corazon Santiago's faction. She apparently had the support of the security personnel who didn't go with Yang. In addition, she had a contingent of those who fancied themselves rugged individualists but didn't go with us. We expect her to try to develop a society based on the right to bear arms."

Morgan said, "That sounds like a pretty thin ideology. Rather like trying to found a society on the right to drive fast cars."

Lucia replied, "Yes, but perhaps that very ideological thinness gives them some flexibility. For example, they are not committed to a specific form of government.

"Santiago is known to despise the natural inclination to accumulate wealth, which she views as a weakness. She is intellectually narrow, but deeply versed in military history, and she is reputed to be a brilliant tactician. In diplomacy, she can be expected to honor her word, but she won't give her word easily. Above all, in dealing with her, we must avoid any appearance of weakness.

"If we find ourselves at war with Santiago, our strategy should be the opposite of our strategy for Yang. She will have a good military, but it won't be a big military. The first goal will be to limit her mobility and her tactical options. Then we should try to force her into a war of attrition. We could crank out a supply of warbots to grind her down. When the defensive front is stabilized, we should look for a victory somewhere, perhaps by seizing a lightly defended base. Then, having won her respect by beating her, we should offer whatever we have taken in return for peace."

"Thank you, Lucia. This is insightful analysis. I suppose Miriam is next," said CEO Morgan.

"Yes. If she turns out to be located near us, Miriam Godwinson is likely to be the greatest danger. She is a fanatic surrounded by fanatics, and ideologically committed to spreading her way of life everywhere. She is highly charismatic — her followers would literally worship her if she permitted it. Despite her religious blinders, she is intelligent and an excellent judge of people. She's more tolerant of religious variation than you might expect. She greatly enjoys theological disputation, and this might well have become the most popular entertainment in her faction.

"Her deep suspicion of science will probably cripple her faction's research, so she will have to steal or trade for most of her technology. This gives us commercial opportunities, but we will have to take care not to strengthen her too much if she is in a position to menace us.

"A society of religious fanatics has several military advantages. The universal religious fervor gives them a degree of immunity to espionage and probe activity, especially when the fanatics practice enough tolerance so that minority religious sects won't want to change colors. Such a society will also find it easy to get volunteers for their military. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, a military of true believers will be willing to sacrifice their lives if necessary, and this gives them an edge over saner opponents.

"A war with Miriam Godwinson would be a desperate and damaging affair. She could certainly field a larger army than ours, one capable of suicidal attacks. But the willingness to die is mainly an offensive rather than a defensive virtue, so we should hit her hard in the field rather than wait for her to attack us. We must compensate for our smaller numbers by outsmarting her and subjecting her forces to hit-and-run tactics. Initially, we should make the most of our home-field advantage by disrupting her supply lines and by striking at her out of our bases. If she is close enough to us to be a perpetual threat, we might endeavor to conquer her outright despite the cost, because otherwise she might just attack us again and again. On the other hand, if she does not seem to be a perpetual threat, we should seek peace at the first opportunity.

"Miriam Godwinson could be a boon to us if she can be convinced to attack someone else who might be troublesome. Over time, we should have a substantial technological lead, and she could end up dependent on us to keep at parity with her neighbors. By feeding her tech at intervals, we can keep other factions off-balance and unable to threaten us. In summary, Miriam Godwinson would be a bad enemy, but she might make a good pet."

"Excellent appraisal, Lucia," said Morgan. "I particularly like the idea of a pet Miriam. We have one more faction to cover now."

"No, sir. That's all of them," said Lucia.

"Hardly," said Morgan. "What about us? I would like a similar summary of our own faction, to see how an intelligent external observer might see us."

It galled Lucia that she hadn't foreseen this request, which she could see was reasonable and intelligent. Not for the first time she wondered if she were really worthy of the responsibility that Morgan had entrusted her with. Fortunately, she was good at thinking on her feet.

"We hold the long-term trumps," she said. "We are the only faction with a thorough understanding and appreciation of economics. Ultimately, we will be so prosperous we will be able to simply buy an academia superior to Zakharov's or a military superior to Santiago's. Should we feel the need, I suppose we could also buy a religion superior to Godwinson's. In order to compete with us, a faction would have to become like us, and they would then merge into our economic system to our mutual benefit.

"But that is the long term, and in order to get there we shall first have to survive the short term and the medium term. It will be many decades before we can establish economic dominance. With the possible exception of Deirdre Skye, the other factions' leaders are intelligent enough to recognize our long-term economic potential, and we can expect them to take actions to limit our growth. They will note that of all the factions, we are the one least suited to war.

"The most obvious way to limit us is by conquering us outright. Any of the other factions would conquer us if they could do so safely, so we must make them understand that the price of war would be too high. We must have accurate intelligence on their capabilities and the disposition of their forces. The greatest danger would come from an invasion of several allied factions, so we should do everything we can to keep such an alliance from materializing.

"War is bad business, as you have said, so factions who fear our economic dominance will be tempted to war. Even if they are not strong enough to try to conquer us they may launch harassing raids to wreck our infrastructure. They may even try the Sword of Damocles strategy. This is to perpetually threaten us with war without actually launching one. The idea is to panic us into adopting an emergency defensive stance at a cost to the development of our economy. While we cannot allow ourselves to be vulnerable to conquest or recurring vandalistic raids, we must also be careful not to overreact to threats.

"Internally, we will probably have occasional drone trouble. There are always some malcontents who think the world owes them a living. They would be easily manageable, but they will be supported by hostile factions who wish to disrupt our society and economy. With intelligent political management, we should still be able to keep them from being more than a nuisance.

"Ideologically, we have the advantage of being the only faction that allows people to choose their own goals in life. For Zakharov, research is the only proper use of one's life, and for Miriam, a life should be spent in worship and good deeds. For Santiago, the virtuous existence is spent polishing one's weapons and being tough, while for Yang, the proper use of life is obedience to Sheng-ji Yang. For Lal, one is supposed to spend one's life promoting the brotherhood of man — under the auspices of the UN, of course — while for Deirdre one should be endlessly mooning about the wonders of nature.

"But in our society, one chooses one's own goals and tries to make money to achieve them. We really don't care if you spend your money on research or shiny weapons or nature-mooning or religion or admiring Sheng-ji Yang. This means we are a natural haven for refugees from other factions.

"In the medium term, the other factions will have a higher natural rate of population growth than ours. We could make up for this with immigration. Immigration always brings social friction, and a certain number of the immigrants will undoubtably be spies from other factions, but overall, immigrants and their children tend to be the most productive segment of the population. Provided we are realistic in our expectations and forestall social discord and weed out the spies, immigrants should be a substantial asset."

Morgan said, "Indeed, in the days of its greatness, immigrants are what made America great. But the Americans never fully appreciated the source of their vitality. I am not so foolish."

Lucia continued. "Because war is bad for us and because all of the other factions are potential threats, we might be tempted to an isolationist policy. But this would be a mistake. We need to develop foreign trade for our economy and we need a vigorous diplomacy to prevent coalitions from forming against us. We also cannot shut ourselves off from the progress of between 80 and 90 of the population of this planet and hope to maintain parity."

Morgan nodded and said, "I think of what China's policy of isolation brought it in the 19th century, and I concur that isolation is folly."

"The other factions will probably have difficulty understanding our society," said Lucia. "They simply don't know how to think in our terms. They will try to organize their society along tree structures of bureaucratic or military chains of command. From everything I've seen, the other faction leaders don't understand self-organizing social systems and they don't know the power of the invisible hand. Our society will be more resilient than theirs, and more complex than anything consistent with an imposed tree structure. But from their point of view, society _is_ a tree structure, so they will look at us in those terms and see what their preconceptions have conditioned them to see. We should look for ways to exploit their misconceptions."

"That is an intriguing speculation," said Morgan. "And you have given a lucid overview of our strengths and weaknesses. I did well to choose you as probemaster."

Lucia said, "May I speak frankly, sir?"

Morgan said, "I insist that you always speak frankly when we are in private."

"Thank you, sir," said Lucia. "I was wondering what would become of me and my nascent organization. There seems to be no place for us in the draft constitution, and you are apparently retiring from politics."

Morgan replied, "You will continue to exist where you are now — off the books." Then he added in apparent irrelevance, "A constitution is a contract between a government and the people. I have great experience with contracts."

"Sir?" said Lucia.

Morgan said, "Often the most important part of a contract is written between the lines. What this constitution has between the lines is robust enough to survive our constitutional convention's tinkering. I will not be president of our plutocracy. I will not hold any significant official post. Others will govern. But, I assure you, I will still _rule_."

It was at that moment that Lucia Graves understood that CEO Nwabudike Morgan was the most cunning person on Chiron. He would need all of his cunning to ensure that he and his society survived.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Miriam Godwinson looked out the window at the harbor of New Jerusalem. The strangers' great skimship dwarfed the boats of her people. But more important than its size was its speed. Her people's boats had to hug the coast and always be ready to race for the shore should one of those sea monsters known as isles of the deep appear. This skimship could easily outrun those horrors and thus could travel freely on the high seas.

The dock at which the skimship was moored was filled with Miriam's citizens. As soon as they had arrived, the strangers began selling tickets for a tour of their vessel. It was odd and significant behavior.

Brother Jenkins spoke to Miriam. "These worldly strangers will corrupt our people," he said. "Though some at least profess a belief in God, they are all sinful philistines. The leader of their delegation, the so-called merchant-ambassador Nwabudike Morgan, seems particularly debauched."

"Nwabudike Morgan. He was the stowaway on the Unity. He struck me as a creature of Mammon, but one with hidden depths. A formidable man, in fact. I am surprised to see him serving as a mere ambassador," said Miriam.

Jenkins said, "The newsnets speak of nothing but these strangers. This Nwabudike Morgan gave an extended interview. When he was asked whom he admired most in history, he claimed it was Oliver Cromwell. This is a mere attempt to sway us; he is not to be believed."

Miriam Godwinson mused that though Brother Jenkins was devout and loyal, he was somewhat lacking in intelligence. Perhaps the same could be said of her entire faction. Sometimes she grew weary of all the devoutness and loyalty and longed for contact with a first-rate mind.

"Of course he is not to be believed," said Miriam. "Still, don't you think his choice of a hero shows some subtlety? An average man who was trying to butter us up would have named Jesus Christ. And in the further course of the interview, he showed some real insight into Cromwell's career."

"I have the holo of their meeting with the port authorities," said Brother Jenkins. He set up the holo equipment, and they watched a while in silence.

"This is an abomination," said Brother Jenkins. "He is not married to that woman!" In the holo, Nwabudike Morgan stood holding hands with an attractive woman several decades his junior.

Miriam observed them intently. Nwabudike Morgan was a good actor, and the young woman was an even better actress, but still Miriam was sure they did not have a sexual relationship. This supposed harlot was something other than she seemed.

Miriam also observed the other merchants in the party. Despite their superficial informality, it was clear to her that they held Nwabudike Morgan in a respect bordering on awe. This would be hard to credit if he were merely an ambassador of their government out on his first mission. He must be something more, she thought.

"This crass worldliness will sorely test our people's faith," said Brother Jenkins. "They have so many things that we have not. Already some of the women of the city are imitating the costume of Morgan's whore."

"The material world is also God's creation, though we bide here but for a time," said Miriam. "Turn your studies to _Luke_, and let _John_ rest a while." She thought that Brother Jenkins sometimes showed unfortunate Gnostic tendencies, and by this comment she tried to prod him toward the True Path. Not that he didn't have a point. The ways of this Plutocracy of Deineira were quite alien to their own and were a challenge to the life of faith. But still that skimship in the harbor spoke eloquently. If the Conclave of the Believers were to fall too far behind in technology, the ungodly would overrun them. The faithful would have their reward in heaven, but the Light would be extinguished from this world.

Oliver Cromwell had supposedly said, "Put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry!" His New Model Army had been the most advanced military force of its time. In order to survive on this world, the Conclave had to be strong, and that meant they could not be backward. There were other factions on this world, and the Deineirans were not the worst.

There was that ignorant trollop Deirdre Skye with her neopagan silliness. There was Yang, who if he allowed religion at all would only allow puppet religions controlled by the state. There was Lal, who wanted to replace religion with an exaltation of the brotherhood of man — a brotherhood which he would lead, of course. There was that gun nut Santiago. And finally there was the unspeakable Zakharov who despised all religion and even all people who did not display academic brilliance. In his faction, no doubt, you were either a scientist or a lab rat.

Perhaps these Deineirans could even serve as a counterbalance to a disturbing trend toward religious ostentation that Miriam had noticed among the elite of her faction. _They make broad their phylacteries_, she thought.

"I will see this merchant-ambassador tomorrow after morning services," said Miriam. Brother Jenkins looked disappointed but bowed in respect.

* * *

A few days later on the skimship, Lucia Graves said, "I'm certain she saw through us. Not just vaguely either. I think she knew not only that you are the one who counts on Deineira, but also what I was, and even that I haven't been at it for very long."

"I assumed she would see that much. Have you changed your assessment of the faction?" asked Morgan.

"She's more perceptive and more flexible than I expected," said Lucia, "but I could find no evidence of any other first-rate minds in her faction. I think that's why she liked you despite your apparent ideological incompatibility. She's highly intelligent, and lonely.

"But if you expected her to see through the masquerade, why did you flaunt me as your mistress?" asked Lucia. "It seems pointless."

Morgan replied, "The outer message was that we were not going to change our way of life for her any more than we expected her to change her way of life for us. That was a message even the dullards around her could understand. But the inner message to her was to highlight the gap between her and her minions who could not see through us. You are right that she is lonely. She longs for the companionship of equals."

Lucia Graves thought for a moment. They were alone, and he had ordered her to be frank in that circumstance. So she said, "You knew how she felt even before you met her. Are you also lonely for the companionship of equals?"

Morgan said, "The Plutocracy of Deineira is not as short of intelligence as the Conclave. But yes, I do get lonely sometimes."

* * *

Miriam Godwinson sat bolt upright in her bed. That dream ... so vivid. She had dreamt she was married to Nwabudike Morgan, and she had been so _happy_. It was utter foolishness, of course. She had her duty to her people and he had his duty to his. Their fundamental ideals were incompatible. Still, the memory of her dream happiness made her starkly aware of how much she was sacrificing. She hoped God appreciated it.

* * *

100 kilometers from the new RF locus, Morgan's skimship received a comm message in the standard Unity protocol. Academician Prokhor Zakharov himself appeared on the screen and spoke to Morgan. "I see it is our stowaway businessman," said Zakharov. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"Greetings, Academician," said Morgan. "I am now a merchant-ambassador of the Plutocracy of Deineira. We seek trade and friendly relations."

"Very well," said Zakharov. "We will see if you have anything of value to offer. One of our own ships is on the way to rendezvous with you. I'm afraid you'll have to let us board you and search your vessel."

"A sensible precaution," said Morgan. "I look forward to renewing our acquaintance."

After Zakharov signed off, Morgan said to Lucia, "Your Russian is fluent, I understand."

Lucia said, "Yes. I still speak it with my mother, and I studied Russian literature in school."

"My own grammar is atrocious, and I choke on some of the consonant clusters," said Morgan. "Still, I understand it well enough. But as far as Zakharov and his faction are concerned, we don't speak a word."

"Understood," said Lucia.

* * *

Morgan asked Zakharov about his faction's experience with the mind worms.

"The worms gave us a little trouble at first, but no one was killed," said Zakharov. "No scholars, at any rate. We lost a few hundred nekulturnyi on the perimeter, but we were able to compensate for the loss with our advances in robotics."

"What are these nee-kultoornee?" asked Morgan, apparently stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

"They are dropouts, riffraff, the un-degreed. People of no importance," Zakharov explained.

Zakharov continued. "Your faction is relatively primitive and of little interest to us. Your scholarship cannot hope to match our own. However, you could save us the trouble of manufacturing basic items so that we can concentrate on more important matters. Thus you may tell your masters in this Plutocracy of Deineira that some trade is feasible."

* * *

A few days later, on the skimship headed back to Deineira, Lucia told Morgan, "I never thought it would be that bad. I _liked_ school. But Zakharov is insufferably arrogant, and what he has created is monstrous. In Deineira, even poor people have _some_ vote, and they can choose what they do with their lives. In Zakharov's faction, you need a PhD to have any vote at all, and anyone below that level who is not a student has to work at whatever the academic council assigns for whatever wages the academic council determines. Even Yang's faction might turn out to be less oppressive."

Morgan asked, "How far do you think he can be trusted?"

"Not far at all. He does not respect our scholarship, so he doesn't extend his so-called academic integrity to us. I am sure he was lying when he claimed he had not contacted any other factions."

"I concur," said Morgan. "What is your opinion of his technological strength?"

"I have to admit I'm impressed. He seems to have been advancing at roughly twice our pace. The gap between us will only widen over the next few years."

Morgan observed, "He has many intriguing gadgets, but I noticed that they are mostly prototypes, and I think he has trouble in turning them into production items." Then he asked, "How do you assess the stability of Zakharov's system?"

"There are some stabilizing factors which make a revolt in the near future unlikely," said Lucia. "One is that the population as a whole has bought into Zakharov's ideology of academic success being the only true measure of human worth. The dropouts believe they deserve their degradation. Another factor is that a _de facto_ caste system has arisen where each caste looks down upon the ones below it. Their citizens are ranked as follows: at the top are the academy members, then the ordinary PhDs, then the grad students, then undergrads, then grad-school dropouts, then undergrad dropouts, and finally, considered practically subhuman by all the others and amounting to a quarter of the population, those who did not make it through their demanding high-school curriculum.

"But over time, exposure to us is sure to subvert their system. The lower classes will see in us a society where it is possible to be a self-made person and achieve success and respect in many ways. Then they will reject the academic ideology altogether. The open question is whether Zakharov sees the danger."

"For all their academic brilliance, Zakharov and his faction know nothing of human nature," said Morgan.

"They do have departments of psychology and sociology in their university," said Lucia.

"Then I correct myself," said Morgan. "They know less than nothing."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Worm attack! More worms than had ever been seen before, more worms than had been known to exist, worms in the millions, broadcasting psionic terror.

The tiny northern outpost of Singer Station would have been overwhelmed in minutes had it been manned by ordinary citizens. But it was manned by veteran wormhunters who had come north in search of planetpearls. Against the overwhelming psionic pressure, though sobbing and soiling themselves, they stuck to their posts and fired their crispers into the advancing wall of worms.

Lieutenant Kevin Harmon of Morgan Security was leading his unit on a routine training patrol when he received Singer Station's desperate call for help. But Singer Station was 35 kilometers away, and even if he could get there before it was overrun, his unit would be helpless against a worm attack of this magnitude. Even at this distance, he could feel the psionic pressure.

A worm attack of this magnitude was unheard of, unnatural. And now three other outposts, even further from Lieutenant Harmon than Singer Station, were broadcasting pleas for assistance. A coordinated worm attack? It was not natural.

Lieutenant Harmon ordered his troops to set up a worm scan. The psionic patterns were traced out on the map display. Four great worm boils, and 40 kilometers behind them, on the coast, a psionic source with an odd signature, evidently signalling at the worm boils.

"Here," said Lieutenant Harmon, indicating the strange psionic source on the screen. "We launch all our missiles at this spot."

The missiles were set to their target, and Lieutenant Harmon barked out, "On my mark! Fire!" The missiles roared off to the northeast.

After an interminable wait, the anomalous psionic source on the coast winked out on the screen. Almost at once, the psionic activity of the attacking worm boils dropped by several orders of magnitude. Lieutenant Harmon ordered his unit back into their vehicles. There would be some fighting left, but the worms were beaten. One thing for sure — there would be a glut on the planetpearl market. As he led his unit in a dash to the northeast, Lieutenant Harmon squeezed off an encrypted message to his broker.

* * *

"There were three enemy survivors," said Lieutenant Harmon. "The missile blasts left them with serious internal injuries, but all are expected to survive. Two are officers in their thirties. They seem like very hard-bitten types. But one is only a girl — sixteen years old, according to our scan. I can't understand what she was doing on this mission."

"She must have special technical skills," said CEO Morgan. "We need someone who can explain how this worm-control works, and she may be the one. Notify me as soon as she is fit for questioning: I want to interrogate her personally. And put all the prisoners on suicide watch. We need to know what we're up against, so we need them alive."

* * *

"I'm not giving you anything except my name, rank, and serial number," said the girl in the hospital bed.

"Very well, what is your name?" asked Nwabudike Morgan. He, Lucia Graves, and a doctor sat on chairs next to the bed.

"Moondance Vargas."

"And your rank?"

"Worm Empath, First Class."

"Thank you. I think we can skip the serial number," said Morgan.

"I demand to be treated according to the Geneva convention!" said Moondance.

"Geneva is 4.35 light-years away," Morgan observed. "And the convention does not shelter terrorists and war criminals, which is what you are."

"I'm a soldier!" said Moondance, evidently unaware that she was going beyond the name-rank-and-serial-number stage.

"Really?" said Morgan. "You launched an unprovoked massacre of helpless civilians. In my book that is terrorism."

"We were trying to save the world!" Moondance retorted hotly. "It was your kind, the polluters and exploiters, who wrecked Earth. We have an obligation to protect Planet's ecology."

"As far as I've seen, Chiron's ecology is just fungus and mindworms. No adorable dolphins, no majestic redwoods, no noble, tragic gorillas, no fluffy little bunnies, just fungus and worms. Tell me, Moondance, do you love the mindworms?" said Morgan.

Moondance shuddered. "I hate them," she said.

Morgan said, "I could explain what really happened on Earth, but at the moment I don't have the time. I do, however, have the time to show you part of what you've done. Lucia, the holo, please."

A holographic image appeared at the end of the bed. "This record is from an elementary school that was overrun by your mindworms. As you see, the teacher is trying to seal the room," said Morgan.

Morgan continued his narration. "Her courage is impressive, not that it will do any good. She has just one flame-pistol as a defence against — how many worms? You should know, Moondance."

"About two million," said Moondance in a small voice.

"And still she keeps control, despite the psionic pressure from two million worms," said Morgan. "Amazing. But the children, of course, are not so strong.

"I suppose if she really had her wits about her, she'd flame the kids now, to save them from a much worse death. Yet that she can think at all under these conditions is astonishing.

"Here comes the first mindworm through the wall. She got it, but there are plenty more where that came from. Don't shut your eyes, _soldier_. You did this, so you can watch it."

Morgan kept up his commentary as the worms poured through the wall, as the teacher fell screaming, as the worms burrowed through the eyes and into the brains of the terrified children. When it was over, Moondance croaked out a series of spasmodic dry heaves. Her face was soaked in tears. Morgan glanced over at the doctor, who signalled with a gesture that Moondance was not in medical danger.

After the dry heaves subsided, Morgan said, "My friend Miriam Godwinson is a great believer in atonement. Frankly, I don't see how you could atone for this, but maybe you can think of something."

As he left, Morgan ordered redoubled vigilance on the suicide watch.

* * *

"What's going to happen to her after we wring her dry?" asked Lucia. "I know what she did was utterly evil, something that deserves death, but after seeing her, I think she is really just a brainwashed child."

"We may be at war with a nation of brainwashed children who are capable of utterly evil things," said Morgan. "Don't worry. I won't kill her. I haven't decided about the other two.

"But I'm worried about that device they used to control the worms. We don't understand it yet, but it's clear the electronics is sophisticated, far beyond what we thought Deirdre Skye's faction was capable of. Either we underestimated her, or she has allies. Both possibilities are disturbing."

* * *

"She attempted suicide three times," said the doctor, "but each time we stopped her before she could do herself damage. She's quite ingenious, actually. It's not easy for a bedridden invalid to find a way to kill herself."

"How is she doing now?" asked Morgan.

"She's emotionally drained, but physically rested," said the doctor. "She's fit for interrogation."

"Thank you, Sam. Then we'll see her now," said Morgan. Morgan, Lucia, and the doctor entered the room and took their seats by the bed.

"Good morning, Moondance," said Morgan.

"Good morning," said Moondance automatically.

"I'd like to know you better, Moondance. In my society, you'd be considered too young for the military. Is it common for people as young as you to join the military where you come from?"

"No. I'm special. I'm a worm empath."

"And what is a worm empath?"

"Only a few people, sensitives, can operate the worm-controllers. In school, everyone has to take an empath test. Those who score high, like me, get sent to Planetsong, which is a sort of military academy. There we study worm control, tactics, and ecodoctrine. We aren't allowed to speak with anyone from the outside. I haven't seen my family in four years."

"How many students are at Planetsong?"

"Around fifty. There are more staff than students."

"Were you a good student? How did you compare to the others?"

"I was the best by far. I'm not bragging; that's just the way it was. No one else could control so many worms or direct them so precisely. No one else could go for so long without getting wormsick or recover from being wormsick as quickly."

"Wormsick?"

"That's when you've been directing the worms for a while and the worm thoughts get inside your head and you start thinking like a worm mass. Worms don't really think, but they have instincts, nasty instincts, especially when they swarm. Attack! Burrow through flesh! Eat the brain! Lay eggs! It's horrid. Some kids never get over it, and those are taken away from Planetsong. I don't know what happens to them."

"Could you tell me more about your life at Planetsong?"

"Most of our time is spent on ecodoctrine. They tell us it's important that we are totally committed to ecology so that we are willing to do hard things. But ecodoctrine is really boring. It's just the same stuff over and over. Then we spend a lot of time on tactics. That's fun. It's mostly running computer games, and you get to use your brain.

"When you first get to Planetsong, you learn how to handle a small clutch of worms, and then you work your way up to larger swarms and making them do more complicated things. At first you just make them move around, or you run them through mazes, things like that. Then you graduate to using them on field maneuvers in the back country. Everyone looks forward to that; it's our only chance to leave Planetsong for a while.

"When they decide you are really good, they put you on live targets. I hated that. The first few times they set up armored enclosures with animals in them and made me overwhelm the enclosures. I felt really sorry for the poor animals. Then they tried to set me on attacking enclosures with people, condemned criminals. They said they were really bad people who deserved to be eaten by worms and that I needed to show I was ready for war, but I wouldn't do it. I told them I had had enough practice already, and I had already proven that I was the best they had, but I wasn't going to use worms on our own people even if they were criminals."

"What do you know about the worm-control equipment? How does it work?"

"We just learn to operate it. I don't know anything about how it does what it does. They keep changing the equipment, but when the technicians come with new equipment, they just give us instructions on how to use it, not how it works. Sometimes I listened to them talk to each other to try to learn something, but mostly they use their own language, German, I think, so I didn't get much."

"German? Could it have been Russian?"

"Maybe. I can't tell the difference, Mr. Morgan."

"You can call me Nab if you want. Nab was my nickname as a boy. It's also the name of a character in Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne. Did you ever read it?"

"No. I wanted to, when I was eleven, but just when I was about to start it, they passed the Ecofriendly Thought laws, and all fiction that didn't promote ecological values was pulled from the net. You need special permission to read it now. I used to love to read, but there are hardly any stories worth reading anymore."

Morgan gestured to Lucia and a holographic globe of Chiron appeared above the bed. "Moondance, I need a geography lesson. Could you do that for me?" said Morgan.

Moondance nodded, and pointed out the features of her homeland on the globe.

When the "geography lesson" was complete, Morgan said, "Suicide won't fix any of the damage that has been done, you know. You've been driving poor doctor Sam and his staff frantic."

"But I deserve to die. I'm evil," said Moondance.

"You're in a new world, now. You can make a fresh start, have a new life. It's been done before."

"Oh! I wish that was true! But I can't live with what I've done. The guilt is worse than anything I can imagine, worse than wormsickness, worse than being eaten by worms, even. I have to die. It's the only way out."

* * *

On their way out of the hospital, Lucia said, "I hope we kill that ecobitch, Deirdre Skye."

Morgan said, "I concur. But the first order of business is to keep her from killing us. By the way, you are also free to call me Nab."

"Nab...how many people call you that?"

"Moondance now, I hope; you; Miriam Godwinson; some old friends. You count as a new old friend."

* * *

"Greetings, Pastor Reyes. How's the religion business going?" said Morgan.

"Quite well, Nwabudike. You should take out some stock now and get in on the ground floor."

"You're not having trouble adapting to all us sinners and unbelievers?"

"On the contrary, I find it refreshing. It's pretty boring back in the Conclave. Everyone there is already saved, so I don't have much of a job. Here, I get into a lot of fascinating arguments with unbelievers."

"I understand you've been out of town," said Morgan.

"Yes. Relief work in the north. What happened there was horrible, but it could easily have been far worse. I praise God the worms were stopped in time."

"You should also praise Captain Harmon."

"I never pass up a chance to praise God, but I praise Captain Harmon too. But I thought he was a lieutenant."

"He used to be," said Morgan. "Tell me, don't you get bored sometimes, dealing with our petty sins? Gluttony, sabbath-breaking, coveting the neighbor's wife...it hardly seems worthy of a man of your talents. I'll bet you can find all that back in the Conclave."

"I sense you have something in mind, Nwabudike," said Pastor Reyes.

"You know me too well," said Morgan. "I have in mind a sin as great as any I've seen in my long and sin-filled life. But she herself is not really evil."

"The worm girl," said Pastor Reyes.

"Yes. Will you do it?"

After a pause, Pastor Reyes said, "I shall need to pray for compassion, especially after what I've seen in the north. But yes, Nwabudike, I will."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Pastor Reyes prayed for compassion. Then he studied the recordings of the interrogation sessions. Then he wept.

He went to see Moondance every day. After a week, she was no longer thinking of suicide. But a new idea had taken root, one which Pastor Reyes did not plant, indeed one which he considered unchristian. Revenge on Deirdre Skye.

As Moondance regained her health, her ferocity startled even Morgan. She wanted to start a worm-corps for the Deineirans. Morgan pointed out that they didn't know how the worm-controller worked and they didn't have empathy tests.

"Nab, I'm better than the empathy tests," said Moondance. "I could always tell how good the other kids were going to be after talking to them for a while. I could always tell who wouldn't recover from worm-sickness. Let me recruit while your scientists figure out the worm-controller."

"Moondance, you still have some convalescing to do. And you are too young for our military."

Moondance said, "Back home, and especially at Planetsong, it was hard to see what was going on. Even if you felt something was wrong, there was no one you could talk to about it. But now that I can see it from the outside, I can see what they did to us.

"All the time in ecodoctrine we heard about how precious and fragile Planet's ecology is and how we have to be ready to kill anyone who threatens it. Ecodoctrine is boring, but even if you think you're ignoring it, it still sinks in over time, and it's repeated so often that you forget there is any other way to think.

"Before you said it, it had never occurred to me that Planet's ecology is just fungus and worms. But you're right, and it's so obvious, but it's something we wouldn't think in Planetsong, or if we ever thought it, we'd forget it after a while because we'd never dare say it aloud.

"We were just children, and they made us into monsters. Deirdre Skye did that. I'll do anything that helps bring her down.

"You think of me as a kid because I'm so young, but I'll never have a chance to be a real kid now. I'm a killer, Nab. Please give me a chance to kill the right people this time."

* * *

Meanwhile, the war was on. Deirdre Skye launched an invasion fleet of troop transports with an inadequate escort. The Deineirans sank the fleet in a great sea battle a few hundred kilometers west of Deineira. There were only a few survivors, thanks to worms in the water.

Deirdre Skye rejected all of Morgan's attempts to parley.

Normally, Nwabudike Morgan was alone when he had his talks with Miriam Godwinson, but this time Lucia Graves was with him. After the hololink was established and preliminary greetings and smalltalk were exchanged, Morgan said, "I left the military interrogation to my military experts, but when they were done, Lucia and I questioned the prisoners with a view to gaining a general understanding of Deirdre Skye's faction and insight into Deirdre Skye herself.

"Though the faction is nominally a democracy, Deirdre Skye maneuvered herself into a position of absolute control. I had not considered her capable of such subtlety."

"Her subtlety is nothing compared to yours, Nab," said Lucia.

"Perhaps not, but my experience is much greater, and her subtlety was quite adequate to the task at hand," said Morgan. "Her faction calls itself the Gaians. Gaia was apparently an ancient Greek goddess of the Earth, so I suppose they are effectively calling themselves Earthers. It seems incompatible with their professed aim to protect the ecology of Chiron."

Miriam said, "I believe the term refers to a pseudoscientific ideology that was popular in certain circles back on Earth. The so-called Gaia hypothesis viewed the entire ecology of Earth as a living organism. This is an abuse of metaphor, of course, but it served as a bridge to neopaganism. Paganism is essentially a systematic abuse of metaphors.

"You see, paganism originally arose out of primitive attempts to understand nature, unlike later religions, which were driven by an attempt to understand morality. In a primitive worldview, the mechanism of the world is metaphor and myth. If we ask whether the ancient Greeks really believed that Zeus was responsible for tossing the lightning bolts in a storm, we are asking the wrong question. On the one hand, no sane Greek would look up in the sky and expect to see Zeus with a lightning bolt in hand. On the other, our ancient Greek knew the myths and thought they were the reason that things were the way they were."

"She styles herself Lady Deirdre Skye, now, as if she were some kind of nobility," said Lucia. "Do you think she might be trying to establish a hereditary aristocracy? It seems mad, but nothing she does makes any sense."

"It might not have anything to do with hereditary aristocracy," said Miriam. "I fear her ambitions are even greater. Celtic neopagans often refer to nature deities as _Lord_, and _Lady_. I think she is trying to set herself up as a goddess."

Lucia said, "We don't yet have any sources among the Gaians themselves aside from the prisoners we have taken. But we have established cells among the lower orders of Zakharov's faction. They don't have access to research data, but they are able to tell us about the general conditions in their faction. They tell us that the name Deirdre Skye is spoken with respect by their elite. Her faction's biological research has apparently outstripped theirs, and Zakharov's post-docs in the biological sciences go to her faction for advanced study."

Morgan said, "I sometimes misjudge people, but I rarely misjudge them so greatly. On the Unity, I thought she was a mere ditz. She had enough charisma to attract a coterie of starry-eyed zealots, but I thought her intellect was limited. Nor did the scientists seem to hold her in much respect.

"Though she seemed capable of doing some damage in the name of her misguided idealism, I never expected her to commit murder. I thought she might be driven to sabotage, but nothing much worse. Nothing I saw on the Unity prepared me for either the competence or the cruelty she now displays."

"Perhaps she is a cat's paw for Zakharov," said Lucia.

"That may have been Zakharov's intention, but I think she is something more, now," said Miriam.

"I concur," said Morgan. "She is now highly dangerous in her own right.

"This war does not make sense to me. It is perhaps consistent with her professed ideals, other than pacifism, but it doesn't fit what I thought her character to be. She attacked us without warning, without having ever contacted us. She refuses all attempts to parley. And if she lusts for conquest, why us? There are closer, easier targets."

"It may not be conquest that she seeks," said Miriam. "She wants both us and her own people to think that this is just a war of conquest, but it may be something much worse: a war of annihilation."

"I am missing something important," said Morgan. "Some key to her character, some explanation of how I could have been so wrong about her. But I judge that you, Miriam, are never wrong about a person you have been able to observe closely over an extended period of time. How did you see her on the Unity?"

"I thank you for your faith in me, Nab, but I am not infallible, and in this case I failed. My impression of her on the Unity was much like yours. She didn't show either the intelligence or the malevolence that she now displays. Nor did I detect signs of incipient megalomania. She struck me as the sort of person who would pave the road to hell with her good intentions. A fool, both intellectually and morally, but no worse than that, and with no intellectual assets beyond the charisma that you noted.

"She has changed, somehow. Either that or she managed to thoroughly fool both of us on the Unity, and we two are probably the shrewdest judges of character on this planet.

"In the long run we need to solve the puzzle of Deirdre Skye. In the short run, we need to keep her from destroying us. I can send you an army to defend Deineira."

"I am touched by your offer, Miriam," said Morgan. "Our own military is small, and I don't know how well our local militias would fare against professionals. But you should keep most of your army at home, not only to defend the Conclave but to pose a threat that will dissuade Zakharov from sending troops against us. Also, I think it is strategically important not to overreact. When you overreact, you are letting the enemy pull your strings."

"A profound observation, Nab, and one which I may borrow for a sermon. How many troops should I send?"

"I think two brigades will strike the right balance," said Morgan.

* * *

The Conclave troops, with their unadorned black uniforms, their grim purposefulness, and their simple bowl haircuts, fascinated the Deineirans. Soon many Deineirans who had formerly worn the most brightly colored clothing they could find garbed themselves in starkly simple black, and elegant coiffures were replaced by bowl haircuts.

Many a young man in the Conclave army found Deineiran females offering their bodies to him, not for money or even sheer wantonness, but out of admiration and gratitude. And many a young man in the Conclave army reasoned that in war things were different, and what was ordinarily sinful was acceptable or even meritorious, and when was he going to get another offer like this anyway?

A story made the rounds of one young woman (always described as intoxicatingly beautiful) who deliberately became pregnant, though with no idea of entrapping the father into marriage. "My son will be a bastard," she was alleged to have said, "but he will be the bastard of a hero!" The story was probably apocryphal and may even have been planted by one of Lucia Graves' people, but the boost it gave to morale was astonishing.

* * *

On the diplomatic front, relations were opened with two other factions: Pravin Lal's faction, who called themselves the Peacekeepers or simply the UN, and Corazon Santiago's faction, who called themselves the Spartans. Morgan negotiated with them from the Deineiran capital of Adam Smith over encrypted hololink.

Lal met Morgan's request for aid against Deirdre Skye with practiced sanctimony. He implored Morgan to seek peace with Deirdre Skye, and when Morgan pointed out that she refused all attempts to parley, Lal said that Morgan must have provoked her with his "imperialist stance," although Morgan hadn't even had any contact with her when she first attacked.

Lal suggested that Morgan not resist the Gaian invaders, and that if the Gaians proved oppressive, he could struggle against her with peaceful protests. _Ahimsa_. Morgan treated this fake Gandhianism with fake respect. But if no direct help was forthcoming from the Peacekeepers, at least trade was opened up and the Deineirans gained another window on the world.

Santiago also expressed a desire to sit out the war, though her position was more forthright. She said she would ally herself with the victor. Morgan dryly pointed out that his gratitude would be greater if she allied herself with him when he actually had a need for her, and that if he lost and then Deirdre Skye turned on her, she might find herself wishing for allies.

Santiago's faction was centered about a great inland sea on the continent they called Clausewitz. Morgan's RF scans had indicated and Santiago confirmed that the Gaians were colonizing the northern tip of the continent. Santiago admitted that worried her, but she did not consider it a _casus belli_. She did not want to get into a war where she would have to maintain a long supply line.

Morgan negotiated a trade pact. The Deineirans would trade a broad spectrum of goods in exchange for weapons and military trainers.

This left only Sheng-ji Yang uncontacted (counting the war with Deirdre Skye as contact). He was evidently situated on a large volcanic island in the far south. Morgan was content to leave him out of the picture for the present.

The war forced Morgan to abandon his plan of fading into the background. He was the founder of the faction and its leader in the difficult early years, so people looked to him in times of crisis. Soon, though no one could say exactly what he did, he seemed to be everywhere, and the Deineirans were reassured that the situation was under control. His effect on morale can be gauged by the fact that more and more Deineirans were starting to refer to themselves as _Morganites_.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

"At ease, General Khoury. Please report," said Generalissima Corazón Aquiño, leader of the Spartan Federation. General Alice Khoury saluted and shifted to a slightly more comfortable but still military pose.

"With your permission, Your Toughness, I shall begin with a strategic overview of the factions on Chiron. Then I shall discuss the war between the Gaians and the alliance of the Deineirans and the Conclave of Believers."

Corazón Aquiño nodded and said, "Proceed, General." She did not object to reviewing that which she already knew. Generalissima Aquiño had the facts, but what was important was arranging them into a strategic perspective.

General Khoury pressed a button on her datek and a map appeared on the wallscreen, centered on Mount Planet and the Southeastern portion of Clausewitz continent.

"First on the agenda is Chairman Sheng-ji Yang's Human Hive, located in the vicinity of the volcanic island Mount Planet. Eventual war with Yang is inevitable, as Yang himself is certainly aware. But for the present he is comfortably distant and a useful trading partner.

"Yang is cautious, even paranoid. He builds his bases underground for defense. He wants first to ensure he hangs on to what he has. Strategically, he hopes that would-be conquerors will be sucked into Stalingrad-like battles of attrition when they attempt to seize his bases.

"The Human Hive is a totalitarian state. Yang can easily turn the entire efforts of his faction to war. His heavy industry, supported by the substantial natural resources of the Mount Planet region, will allow him to field the largest armies on planet. Fortunately his army, though large, is of mediocre quality. This, combined with his general contempt for the value of human life and his fear of uncertainty, will also lead him to seek a war of attrition.

"We cannot allow him to do this. Militarily, we are like the Israelis of the 20th century or the Singaporean Hegemony of the 21st. We have a good military, the best on Chiron, but it is not a big military. We need quick victories, complications where our superior troops and leadership will get full play, and we need to avoid set-piece battles.

"We cannot prevent Yang from colonizing the Southeastern part of Clausewitz continent. This will bring him into inevitable contact with us along a land border. Fortunately, our explorers have found that this portion of Clausewitz continent is barren and poor in resources. Until his population expands significantly, he will want to concentrate on exploiting the riches of Mount Planet.

"If Yang seeks to become a naval power, he will certainly plant sea colonies in the Geothermal Shallows area. This could bring him into conflict with Zakharov and possibly Lal, who are also positioned to exploit the region.

"Yang is already attempting subversion through propaganda released by the so-called Hive-Spartan Friendship Committee, but his society is so repellant to anyone who places the slightest value on freedom that his efforts are getting nowhere. Our people are Survivalists, not Communists or Fascists.

"The Hive is and will continue to be strategically inflexible. It is entirely a reflexion of the personality of Sheng-ji Yang, and if Sheng-ji Yang himself can be neutralized, the Hive will be neutralized also. The Hive will also always be rather weak in research, especially where research might come into conflict with Sheng-ji Yang thought. If the Hive receives no outside aid, it will be hopelessly backward by the time its population grows enough to be threatening. On the other hand, if he is fed tech by someone else, perhaps by Zakharov, he will be a mortal danger.

"In the short term the Hive alone is not a threat, but the Hive and the Gaians together are. If the Gaians attack us from the north or from the ocean, they will incite the Hive to open a second front in the Southeast."

"Thank you, General," said Corazón Aquiño. "I agree that the principal near-term threat from the Hive is as a second front in a war with the Gaians. But Yang cannot yet open a second front without relying on perilously long supply lines. We must encourage his cautious nature. However, we must not fall too easily into the assumption that Yang can attack us only from the southeast. He could also attack through or around the continent at the south pole."

"Pravin Lal's faction: the UN, or so-called Peacekeepers." General Alice Khoury fiddled with her datek and the wallscreen shifted to display a map centered on the long subcontinent extending southward from the continent the Spartans called Alexander.

"Lal's arrogance is obnoxious and out of proportion to the actual power of his faction," said Khoury. "He officially treats us as a rebellious unit of his silly United Nations, and pointedly refers to Your Toughness as _Colonel_, your former rank in the UN forces. He is currently confined to his subcontinent, which is neither especially poor nor especially rich in resources. His natural path of expansion is northward into the riches of the Monsoon Jungle, but the Conclave has forestalled him there. The Conclave has also seized the Planetneck isthmus, inhibiting his expansion to the northeast. He is far from ready to challenge the Conclave forces on his own, though he would doubtless be willing to open a second front if the Conclave is invaded elsewhere.

"Lal seems to be popular in his own faction, and the opportunities for probe teams from other factions to stir up trouble are limited, especially for us. The average citizen of the UN finds our ideals incomprehensible.

"Lal is officially neutral in the current conflict, and he trades opportunistically with both sides. However, his sympathies undoubtably lie with the Gaians. He knows that unless the Conclave is defeated, his future ambitions for expansion will be stymied. He regards us as his ultimate ideological enemies, but for the time being he poses no threat. He has hardly any navy, and thus no way of reaching us."

"It is unfortunate he is not closer," said Corazón Aquiño. "I would welcome the opportunity of crushing him."

General Alice Khoury again manipulated her datek, and the wallscreen now showed a map centered on the eastern regions of Garlandia continent. "Next is Prokhor Zakharov's faction of the so-called University of Planet. His faction is devoted to scientific research, which of course in practice means cooking up weapons that will pave his way to an ultimate conquest of the whole planet. He has been a useful trading partner, though of course he has kept us away from his most advanced technology. His attitude toward us has been neutral. He regards us as being too distant to be a near-term threat, and sees our ideology as being neither supportive of nor hostile to his own fanatical concentration on research.

"Zakharov is officially neutral in the current conflict, though he freely feeds technology to the Gaians, whose biological research he evidently admires. He hates the Conclave of the Believers, but doesn't feel ready to openly war on them yet. He even engages in limited trade with them.

"He also despises the Morganites, especially for their alliance with the Conclave, yet he trades with them too. It is the judgement of our analysts that he is waiting for the most opportune moment to join with the Gaians in this war.

"His admiration for Deirdre Skye is apparently genuine, and this is puzzling. He says she is his only intellectual equal on Chiron. Yet aboard the Unity, he treated her and her clique with utter contempt.

"Zakharov's great weakness is his vulnerability to espionage. We have been able to steal valuable technology despite our limited access. Large portions of his populace are disaffected, and the Conclave has been exploiting this with covert missionary efforts. Zakharov has responded with fierce persecution of the miscreants, but this has only increased the popularity of religion among the lower classes.

"A revolution is not yet possible, but it may happen in time. Zakharov might not recognize the danger until it is too late. He seems unable to imagine that anyone without an advanced degree could possibly be significant.

"Zakharov's military is mediocre and as yet limited in size. However, he makes up for basically weak troops and indifferent leadership with first-rate weaponry. In fighting him, we will have to seek tactical situations where advanced equipment is relatively unimportant but where first-rate troops and tactical brilliance count. This is not so easy, since in general conditions which favor good troops and good leadership also favor the most advanced equipment. Our war college should study the problem in depth, and our officers should be retrained accordingly.

"Though the University and the Gaians are currently very close, they may come into conflict as their populations increase. They share the same continent — an inherently uneasy state of affairs. They both must be eyeing the unexploited mineral wealth of Garland crater. But there seems no way to drive a wedge between them at the moment.

"In summary, Zakharov's research makes him highly dangerous on his own in the medium and long term. Allied with Deirdre Skye, he is also a short-term menace. If he and the Gaians succeed in extirpating the Deineirans and the Conclave, we will be their next target if they do not turn on each other, and Yang will be our only possible ally against them."

"Zakharov has always been my chief concern, next to the Gaians," said the Generalissima. "An alliance of the two is an existential threat, even if the alliance is not currently directed against us. But we are not yet in a position to strike against either of them."

General Alice Khoury again adjusted the wallscreen. It now showed a map centered on the western region of Alexander, north of Lal's territory. "Next is Miriam Godwinson's faction, the Conclave of the Believers. Formerly we considered that her distance from us rendered her innocuous in the short term, while her expected technological backwardness would make her insignificant in the long term. Her unexpected alliance with the Deineirans, who freely feed her all their most advanced technology, has changed that.

"Her troops are excellent, close to our own in fighting power. What they lack in skill, they make up for in guts. They are admirably aggressive, yet their leadership is good enough to keep them from wasting themselves pointlessly, unlike the Japanese in so many battles of World War II.

"Despite the logic of the alliance between the Conclave and the Deineirans, we had previously considered that the ideological gulf between them would keep them forever apart. There must be some factor our analysts missed. Perhaps Miriam Godwinson is far more pragmatic than we supposed. There are also rumors that a personal issue may have entered the equation."

Generalissima Corazón Aquiño raised a shapely eyebrow.

"Some informants have said that she was quite taken with the ambassador the Deineirans sent. It has even been suggested that she has fallen in love, unlikely as that may seem for such a dour religious fanatic."

"What do we know of this ambassador?" asked Corazón Aquiño.

"His name is Nwabudike Morgan, Your Toughness. He was a stowaway on the Unity. He was formerly the most prominent person on Deineira. He led their society in its early days, and he wrote the first draft of their constitution. Lately, however, he has returned to private life, though he has accepted a series of temporary appointments to relatively minor posts in his government."

"I remember Nwabudike," said Corazón Aquiño. "At first I was tempted to dismiss him as a clown. His glorification of wealth seemed to be a weakness. I had to admit his intelligence and vitality, but he was not a military man. Eventually, though, I saw a core of tough resilience beneath the surface bonhomie. I recognized that he was as much a natural leader as I am. If he had been 20 years younger, I might have fallen in love with him myself!"

General Alice Khoury looked aghast. Corazón Aquiño smiled and said, "That's a state secret, of course. But, as often as I myself forget it, I am still a woman. Also, Miriam Godwinson's beliefs do not allow casual sexual relief, so she had probably built up a substantial reserve of frustrated desires. I can easily see how this story of her falling in love with Nwabudike might be true."

General Khoury continued. "With Deineiran help, the Conclave has assembled a formidable navy. As far as the current strategic situation is concerned, the Conclave is what keeps Zakharov from entering this war. He faces immediate attack from them across the ocean when he does. Unlike the Gaians, the University is in easy striking distance from both the Conclave and from Deineira.

"The Gaians have made some attempts to subvert religious minorities in the Conclave. These attempts failed utterly as the Mormons, the Jews, and even the atheists seized upon the attempted subversion as an opportunity to prove their loyalty. Our original analysis expected exploitable divisions along religious lines in the Conclave, but these have not materialized.

"In contrast, pro-Zakharov and pro-Gaian parties have a tangible presence in Deineira. These are ostensibly political parties, and as such they have no chance of gaining power, but beyond their nuisance value, they could serve as recruiting grounds for spies and terrorists. It seems incredible that such treason would be tolerated in wartime, but the Deineirans are strange and foolish. It is this weakness at a moment when strength is most called for that leads me to believe that the Deineirans will lose this war."

"Perhaps you are right," said Corazón Aquiño. "Morgan has a hard core deep inside, but his people might be just what they seem: pleasure-seeking weaklings. Still, I would not be too hasty in interpreting the behavior of such an alien culture. Athens had a pro-Persian party on the eve of the battle of Marathon, yet they were not weak. And perhaps the Deineirans are playing a game of their own whose purpose we can not discern at this distance. Speak more of these treasonous parties in Deineira."

"Yes, my Generalissima," said General Khoury. "The larger party is the Academics for a Scientific Society, or ASS. They view Zakharov as a modern philosopher king, and openly advocate the incorporation of Deineira into Zakharov's faction. As might be expected, they are strongest in the University of Deineira, where they dominate the Academic Senate and the Consortium of Students, and they actually hold several seats in the Deineiran parliament. Though ASS claims to be a purely Deineiran party, our intelligence is reasonably certain that their inner circle gets its direction from abroad.

"The other treasonous force is the pro-Gaian People's Ecological Party, or PEP. PEP existed before the war as an expression of anticapitalist romanticism, adolescent rebellion, and avowed love of the beauties of nature, despite the lack of actual natural beauty on Chiron. The war caused their membership to drop precipitously, and at the same time their central committee was taken over by pro-Gaian fanatics. The new PEP is generally despised, even by former members, but it has impressive financial backing from inside Deineira itself. Clearly, some very wealthy Deineirans are bankrolling PEP, and our intelligence analysts are mystified as to what the Gaians could have offered them. They already have wealth and power, and this wealth and power would be jeopardized by a Gaian victory."

Corazón Aquiño tossed her head and said, "I know what it is. The Gaians have a secret weapon. One far greater than their mindworms. A weapon that fools would not even recognize as a weapon. An unprecedented weapon that attacks a universal human weakness."

Alice Khoury said, "Your Toughness, may I be permitted to know—"

"Yes, of course," said the Spartan leader. "That's part of why you are here, though I do value your strategic insight. I realize also that you had very little time to prepare your report, so you relied on intelligence summaries. Still, there is no substitute for looking with your own eyes at the data before the analysts have distilled it."

"Yes, my Generalissima," said General Alice Khoury, much chastened.

Corazón Aquiño typed a command into her datek, and a diagram appeared on the wallscreen. "This is a portion of an organization chart of secret Gaian research labs," she said.

"Yes, your Toughness. I recognize it," General Khoury responded.

"Notice how the same man appears at the head of four critical research groups," said the Generalissima. "These are secret groups, so it would not make sense for the post to be a merely honorary one. And indeed, this man, Alfred Pak, had a distinguished career on Earth. So distinguished that he was allowed on the Unity despite his already advanced age. Today, not counting cold-sleep, Alfred Pak is 86 years old. Elsewhere it is mentioned that he has fathered two children in the past three years. He's an impressive old geezer, isn't he?"

Alice Khoury nodded mutely.

The Spartan leader typed another command in her datek, and the wallscreen generated a dynamic hologram of Prokhor Zakharov. "This is a holo of Zakharov addressing a scientific conference," she said. "There is sound for the hologram as well, but we have no need of it. It's all incomprehensible scientific jargon anyway. Just observe him, and tell me what you think."

Alice Khoury watched for a while and then said, "He is unkempt, almost ostentatiously unmilitary in his appearance. He is energetic and enthusiastic about his subject. He's younger than I expected. Somehow I had thought of him as a much older man."

"Just so," said Corazón Aquiño. "He looks no older than he was when the Unity launched."

"Perhaps the holo has undergone cosmetic processing," Khoury suggested.

"Does he look like a man concerned with his appearance?" the Generalissima asked.

"No, but maybe his propaganda department wants him to look younger."

"If so, I would expect them to do something about those untrimmed nose hairs," Corazón Aquiño remarked dryly. "This holo shows him presenting what I am told is a critical theoretical breakthrough, which he achieved on his own. Original scientific research is normally a young person's game, yet here he is making an important discovery despite his age and despite the burdens that leading his faction must place on his time. He should be getting old, but he looks like he is in early middle age, and he behaves like a still younger man."

"But if he is really getting younger…."

"I see, Alice, that you yourself are thinking what it would be like to be young again. I believe this is what Deirdre Skye has to offer those who would collaborate with her. Fear is a powerful motivation, and fear of the ravages of age is universal. Time is an enemy that defeats us all. We have only a few recent images of Deirdre Skye, but they all show her to be a young woman. At first I dismissed this as cosmetic image processing or perhaps the diversion of biological science to make her appear younger. But now I think that she really _is_ younger.

"If, as I believe, Deirdre Skye controls the secret of eternal youth, she will never lack for allies, despite her crimes and despite her cruelty. She will have the ability to create a fifth column anywhere, even here in the Spartan Confederation where we had considered ourselves immune to subversion.

"That old, fat fool, Ponce de Leon, sought the Fountain of Youth. Had he actually found it, he would have had not merely youth for himself, but ultimate power over the whole world. Everyone would have had to come to him for youth and unlimited life. This is the power that Deirdre Skye has today."


End file.
